


i'm sorry but i fell in love tonight,

by lostmemoria



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Canon Divergence for 5A, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Instead of Sheriff finding him at the house Jordan ends up at Lydia's somehow, Kissing, My Rewrite on 5x01 scene, POV Lydia, Sharing a Bed, confession of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 12:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4746797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostmemoria/pseuds/lostmemoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Jordan?” The name escapes her lips softly while the pepper spray leaves her fingertips and crashes to the floor loudly. But she barely registers it because she’s too occupied by the fact that the deputy she’s been helping in trying to figure out what he is for the past six months is standing at her doorstep soaked, shivering, and bloody.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm sorry but i fell in love tonight,

**Author's Note:**

> This is for day 7 of marrishweek, which is free choice. After reading this [prompt](http://keepingwatch.tumblr.com/post/83255326968), I decided to do a rewrite of a scene and I chose the hallucination one from 5x01. So, instead of the Sheriff finding Jordan, he somehow ends up at Lydia's house instead. (all bloody and shirt ripped up, of course.) And things kick off from there.
> 
> The fic contains a lot of dialogue and conversation that is reminiscent from 5x10.
> 
> (also, can you tell i've been listening to a lot of halsey? I really can't stop listening to 'Is there somewhere?')

It’s nearly midnight and no matter how hard Lydia tries, she can’t fall asleep. She blames it on the stupid thunderstorm going on outside, because after figuring out she was a banshee that hears voices in her head nearly a year ago, she’s had trouble falling asleep with anything else besides silence. It’s already enough that she hears dead people in her head, but now she has to worry about roaring thunder and the harsh wind which keep on making the tree branch outside her window hit and screech against the glass.

She doesn’t understand where the storm came from, especially since it’s the summer and they’re in _California._ Meaning, she should be getting hot ninety degree weather and humidity, not fucking thunderstorms. Kira told her it was because of something called the Wild Hunt, an ancient folk myth her mother told her about where ghost riders fly across the sky with black dogs in some mad pursuit, resulting in the thunderstorm.

It makes her roll her eyes and just as she does, another strike of lightning flashes through the dark sky, followed by a bellow of thunder, and after trying to block out the sound for the twentieth time with her pillow, she gives up, tossing it aside and sitting up. She pads downstairs in just her silk blue night gown and warm puffy robe, heading to the kitchen to put a tea kettle on the stove. Deaton gave her a special tea a few weeks ago, one that’s suppose to help her clear her mind and listen to her banshee powers better while also helping her get to sleep.

And just when the water in the kettle starts to boil, the doorbell sounds throughout the house. It makes her jump slightly, surprising her because her mom’s out of town to visit her sister and she’s not expecting anyone from the pack over.

It makes her go still then, thinking she’s just hearing things but then the doorbell sounds again and she knows it’s not just in her mind. She turns the stove off and takes a deep breath, looking around for something to grab. Her first instinct is to grab a knife, but her mom keeps that part of the kitchen locked up ever since she thought that her daughter was depressed and trying to harm herself when really, it was because she was under control of a psychopathic werewolf.

Her second instinct is to grab pepper spray. It’s cliche and stupid, but it’s better than nothing as she steps cautiously out of the kitchen and heads for the front door. The bell rings again when she’s just a few feet away from it and part of her wants to yell out and ask who it is, but she knows better than to confirm her presence. She has the advantage at the moment. She can either let them keep ringing the doorbell until they’re tired of standing out in the rain and then leave or, she can open the door. And she’s already too paranoid about going with the former, so she takes a risk and goes with the latter.

She’s survived werewolves, a kanima boyfriend, and the darach. She’s sure she can take whatever’s behind her front door.

When she swings it open, she’s almost thankful that she doesn’t immediately and blindly just start using the pepper spray, because the person standing in front of her and drenched from the rain is someone she knows. Someone she deeply cares about but is too scared to admit even to herself.

“Jordan?” The name escapes her lips softly while the pepper spray leaves her fingertips and crashes to the floor loudly. But she barely registers it because she’s too occupied by the fact that the deputy she’s been helping in trying to figure out what he is for the past six months is standing at her doorstep soaked, shivering, and bloody. “Oh my god,” she breathes, covering her mouth when she sees how his uniform shirt has been ripped open, blood covering his entire chest and torso.

And when she says his name it’s like he snaps out of a trance, because when he looks up at her he looks like he doesn’t even know how he got here in the first place. “L-Lydia? How...What am I—” His voice breaks as he looks down at himself, looks down at his hands all covered in blood. His blood? He probably doesn’t even know. His beautiful green eyes go wide, and god, Lydia has never seen him so lost, so afraid before. He looks at her and it’s almost like she knows exactly what he’s thinking. He’s thinking he scared her, he’s thinking that he probably freaked her out, and she finds it amazing how despite everything, he still manages to think about everyone else besides himself. “I-I...don’t know what happened...L-Lydia...”

“Hey, hey, shh. It’s okay,” she says softly, walking towards him and not caring if she gets wet from the rain. She takes his hands in her own, not even caring if the blood gets all over her hands as well. He’s looking at her with wide eyes still, trying to pull away, but she doesn’t let him. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. Just...come inside.” She fully expects him to resist and he does, shaking his head but it’s when she pleads him with her eyes that he swallows the lump in his throat and allows her to lead him inside the warmth of her house and out of the cold.

She doesn’t ask him any questions, doesn’t ask him what happened, because she’s sure that whatever it is, it has to do with his supernatural abilities. It reminds her completely of herself—all the times she ended up in unknown places in the middle of the night because of her banshee powers, unaware of where she was and why she was there. She leads him into the kitchen instead, where she makes him sit down while she grabs a washcloth and dampens it with the intention to clean up the blood on him and see just how hurt he is. If it’s really bad, maybe she’ll call up Melissa or have to drive to the hospital, the latter seeming almost impossible to her in this type of weather. But then when she goes and opens up the rest of his shirt, pressing the towel against his chest and wiping away at the blood, to her surprise there’s no wounds. Just smooth, baby soft skin.

 _Healing powers_ , she thinks. Well, that’s something new to look into on their seemingly never ending research on what he can possibly be.

“You’re not scared of me?”

His words make her look up at him and for a moment, she sees herself in his eyes. “Should I be?” She asks, not moving away from him.

“Most people who find a man standing in the rain covered in blood standing at their doorstep would be,” he replies.

She gives him a meaningful look. “Well, I’m not like most people deputy.”

A small soft smile curves on his lips then. “I know.” And it makes her smile too.

“I’m not scared of you,” she tells him, and it’s the truth. She’s known him for the past six months and they’ve spent so much time with each other. He’s listened to her talk about Allison, he’s lent his shoulder for her to cry on, he’s made her laugh so openly when she thought she would never laugh the same way again. He’s become one of the last people she can ever be scared of, because she knows he would never do anything to intentionally hurt anyone.

And instead of telling her that she should be scared of him, that she shouldn’t be near him like this, he says, “ _I’m scared of me._ ”

It makes Lydia stop completely and place the washcloth aside before looking at him. He doesn’t look like the man she’s known for the past six months. He doesn’t look like the sure and steady soul that she’s used to, the one that always has it under control. He looks young, fragile, small, vulnerable.And all she wants to do is wrap her arms around him and hug him, pull him close to her chest and whisper to him, _it’s okay to cry. It’s okay to let it all out._ It makes her wonder when was the last time he did that, the last time he actually cried. She thinks, _far too long ago._

But she doesn’t want to be too sudden, so instead she slides her hand up his arm, watching how his gaze falls to the gentle caress of her hand until she’s cupping his cheek and he leans into her touch far too easily. “I know how that feels...I used to feel the same way,” she says, remembering how she used to be scared of herself too. There were times she thought she was going crazy and it scared her. It scared her she was hearing things, scared her she finding dead bodies, scared her that she was ending up in places and she didn’t know why—how. She gives him a reassuring smile, “but you’re not alone. I just want you to know that you don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here for you.” Because she never had anyone there for her when she needed them, and she doesn’t want him going through the same thing.

She drops her hand then after saying that, telling him that she’ll run him a bath so he can clean up. But before she can turn away from him, he grabs her hand gently, stopping her. “Thank you,” he whispers when she looks at him again, seeing another smile appear on his lips as he looks at her in awe and Lydia can’t remember the last time someone looked at her like that. “For everything.” He brings her hand close to his lips then, presses the softest kiss against her wrist and it makes her whole body flood with warmth from such a small gesture. When was the last time she felt like that with a guy?

Never. _Never._

“You can thank me when I find out what you are, deputy,” she tells him teasingly when he drops her hand, and god she misses his touch already.

“I will. I definitely will.” The glance between her eyes to her lips is subtle but she sees it anyways, and the suggestivity behind his words makes her shiver pleasantly as she leads him out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the bathroom, her hips giving a little more sway than usual as he follows behind her.

She runs the water, filling up the bath with hot water and from the corner of her eye she can see Jordan looking anxious, balancing back and forth on the balls of his feet, and she assumes it’s probably because he’s alone with her in her house in the middle of the night. “Am I making you nervous, deputy?” She asks, looking up at him with a small smirk, enjoying the way he blushes at her words as he shakes his head.

It makes her a little braver as she walks closer to him, watching the way his eyes try so hard to stay focused on her face and not on the way her thin gown flutters around her thighs from underneath her open robe. She makes a mental note to drop the robe later on. They’ve been dancing around that fine line of flirting and being “just friends” for far too long. She smiles at him, “don’t worry. I’m not going to jump your bones.”

He watches her intensely. “I—I just don’t want to be a bother. Isn’t your mother home?” It’s a question he asks her all the times when she tried inviting him inside her house before to “research” further in the bestiary after leaving the station. But as soon as she told him that her mother wasn’t home, he’d politely decline. And god damn, although she loves his sharply defined gentleman persona, it was times like those where she hates it too.

Lydia shakes her head. “She’s out of the town. And don’t you dare say that. _You are not a bother._ Now, wash up and I’ll grab you some clean clothes.” He opens his mouth to protest but she gives him a stern look and he closes his jaw, nodding.

She moves around him to leave but takes a quick guilty glance over her shoulder back at him, watching him shrug out of his ripped up shirt—something she reminds herself to bring up later, when he isn’t all bloody—and catches a glimpse of his broad shoulders, his muscled arms. Arms that she _wouldn’t mind_ having wrapped tightly around her. She shakes the thought from her mind though, closing the door behind her and leaving him to undress in peace as she heads back to her room. She still has some of Aiden’s clothes from when they had a thing going on and they’ll probably be a tight fit on him since Jordan’s much taller than Aiden, but it’s better than him wearing his blood stained clothes again.

When she picks out the pair of sweats and simple t-shirt from her closet, her thoughts go back to her junior year, where she told Aiden she didn’t want to be with the bad guy anymore. It was also the same year she supposedly declared she was done with teenage boys. Nowhere in her mind at that time did she think that would _also_ be the same year she would lose her boyfriend, her best friend, and also meet Jordan, someone completely different from anyone else she’s ever met before.

Jordan doesn’t treat her like the others, like she’s something to be won, something to be conquered. He  treats her with respect, warmth, care, and maybe _love_. She’s sure there’s something there, that he likes her, but sometimes she’s doubtful. At first, she thought he was waiting for her to turn eighteen to ask her out but with six months pass, he still hasn’t made a move on her. And it’s frustrating to say the very least, but at the same time she asks herself, _why do you care so much?_ She’s the one that usually makes boys care about her, has boys wrapped around her manicured finger, but then again Jordan isn’t like other boys. He’s a _man_ and he’s so, so _good_ and it’s not wrong for her to want something good in her life.

Someone good to her. Good for her.

And she’s sure Ally would approve.

She picks up the clothes and walks back to the bathroom, knocking on the door twice and waiting for him to tell her it’s okay for her to come in, but he doesn’t say anything. She knocks again, “Jordan?” Still nothing. She opens the door then, stepping inside slowly to a room filled with a thin layer of steam. She doesn’t remember the water being _that_ hot.

Jordan’s sitting in the middle of the tub, naked in the water and judging by the look on his expression, he seems to have drifted off, completely unaware of her walking towards him and sitting on the edge of the tub. “ _Jordan?_ ” It’s only when she gently touches his arm does he jerk, snapping out of his daze and turning to look at her, a blush immediately flushing his cheeks.

“Lydia, what are you—I’m naked!” He blushes harder and sinks lower into the water to cover himself and Lydia tries her best to suppress a giggle but it bursts out of her anyways.

“Nice observational skills deputy.” She bites back a grin and adds, “and besides, it’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before. In fact, I’m sure half of Beacon Hills has probably seen you naked.” She thinks back to him bursting into the station after that deputy asshole burned him alive and beating the crap out of him. She might have possibly seen more than she bargained for.

His blush creeps all the way down to his neck and she wonders just how much lower it can go. “That-That was an entirely different situation, Miss Martin,” he says and she rolls her eyes.

“Really? Because technically, in both cases you came back from the verge of death.” She grabs the loofah brush, soaking it in water and soap and reaching to scrub the back of his shoulders. He tenses for a moment but when she reassures him with a giggle that she’s not going to bite, he relaxes and lets her scrub away, lets her _take care_ of him for once. They fall into a peacefully long silence for a while that Lydia eventually ends up breaking as she asks about what happened to him.

“I...don’t know.” His voice sounds small as she washes through his hair with her strawberry scented shampoo. “I don’t remember anything but…”  
  
“But?”  
  
“You. I only remember _you._ ”

His words make her freeze. “Me?”

He turns to look at her, his face and neck covered with a thin layer of soap. “I was dying and I saw you. I saw the banshee.” She sees his lips suddenly twitch into a small smile and she finds it interesting.  
  
“What was I doing?” She asks curiously, narrowing her eyes at him.

“You...were trying to keep me alive,” he says, smiling at her.

She raises both brows at him, “really? Because from what I know, this banshee was trying her hardest to fall asleep in this stupid storm.” He laughs again and it’s such a sweet sound that she wouldn’t mind hearing over and over again. She moves closer to him then, letting her feet lightly dip into the water while he leans against the edge of the bathtub with his arms. “Did it...Did I scare you?”

He nods and her expression falls a little when she sees it. “Yeah. A little,” he says. “I mean...I saw the banshee. I thought I was going to die. But, dying wasn’t what scared me.”

“What were you scared of then?” She watches him swallow hard, but he doesn’t say anything. He looks away from her then, his eyes staring at the elaborate tiled pattern of the shower wall instead. Lydia frowns, knowing something is clearly bothering him and she moves her hand over his, slowly intertwining her fingers with his and grabbing his attention once more. “You can tell me,” she says, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

“I-I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to protect the pack,” he says, his voice breaking. “I w-was scared that whatever it was that attacked me would go after Scott and the others...a-and I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.” He’s shaking now, his entire body trembling under the weight of his words as he curls up around himself and Lydia, she can’t take it anymore.

“Oh, Jordan…,” she murmurs, pulling him closer to her without another hesitation and letting him wrap his arms around her waist as he buries his face in her chest and cries. It’s a soft, broken kind of sobbing, the kind where someone has been holding everything in for so long that when it finally spills out, they still try so hard to keep it in. Lydia wraps her arms around his neck, her fingers threading through his hair soothingly as she coos, “let it all out. _It’s okay._ It’s just you and me.”

“I was scared I wouldn’t be able to protect _you_ ,” he says, voice muffled by her gown but she hears it clearly, and god, how can someone be so _good?_

She leans down and presses a kiss against his hair and whispers, “I’m okay, _baby_. And you’re going to be okay too. I won’t let anything happen to you and I know you won’t let anything happen to me.”

The intimacy of the moment, being so close to him and him so close to her scares Lydia, but it also soothes her in ways she never thought it would. It makes her want to just hold him until her arms get tired, to protect him, to kiss his tears away. But at the same time it scares her, because she’s scared she’ll lose him one day just like how she lost everyone else.

But she tries not to think about that. Instead, she wraps her arms tighter around Jordan, not caring if her nightgown is completely soaked through and clinging to her skin, because she’ll hold him for as long as she needs to. For as long as he wants her to.

 

&.

 

Lydia’s not sure how long they stayed like that, but she figures it was probably a long time because by the time they get out of the tub, her feet are pruney and she’s shivering from head to toe.

Jordan is much more composed but he starts to apologize profusely to her, saying that it isn’t like him to do that and that he’s sorry for putting her in a that position, but Lydia just shushes him and tells him it’s okay and it’s only after the twentieth time she says it does he finally stop saying sorry. She goes back to her room to change out of her nightgown and into a pair of pajamas and a tank top, discarding the wet garment in the hamper as she heads outside again, finding Jordan sitting at the top of the stairs and fully clothed in Aiden’s shirt and sweats. He sees her and quickly gets up, quickly saying, “I should get going now.”

She furrows her brows at him. “Oh, you’re not going anywhere. Not only is it freezing outside but it’s raining really hard. You’re staying right _here._ ”

“Lydia, I really appreciate it but I’ve already bothered you enough tonight—”  
  
“ _No_ buts.” She slips her hand in his then, tugging him back towards her room.

“I-I can sleep on the couch,” he tells her, realizing exactly what she has in mind when he enters her bedroom.

“You _can_ , you know, if you want to have a horrible back in the morning,” she says, sitting down on her bed and looking up at him. “And besides, you’ve probably had your fair share of uncomfortable couches to sleep on. Why not try a comfy bed for once, deputy?” She slips underneath the covers on her side and pats the empty space next to her. When she sees him hesitant, she reminds him again, “ _I don’t bite._ ”

Figuring that she’s not going to take no for an answer, Jordan nods and gets into the bed with her, keeping as much distance between them as he can before turning to face her. Her room is dark but moonlight streams through the thin curtains of her window, allowing her to see the gleam of his green eyes and the perfect contours of his face, and oh, all she wants to do is caress his cheek again like she did back in the bathroom. She suppresses the want though and instead says, “you...said you saw me and that I was trying to save you. How?”

If there’s anything she’s learned tonight, it’s that Jordan is probably a horrible liar because as soon as she asks the question, another blush colors his cheeks, making her think that whatever the answer is it’s definitely an interesting one. “You...told me to stay with you. And…”

“And?”

He blushes harder, unable to suppress the embarrassed smile curving up on his lips. “You tried to kiss me.”

That definitely sparks her interest. “Tried? What, hallucination me didn’t succeed?”  
  
He shakes his head, still smiling. “I guess not. All I remember after that is standing at your door.”

“So, what was that then? A kiss of death?” She teases.

“Maybe. I hope not, though.”

“Hope not? Well, how about I clear those doubts for you then?” She grows braver as she scoots closer to him, a pleasant shiver running down her spine at the way he keeps his eyes completely on her while she cups his cheek, thumb stroking soothingly against his skin. She takes one look into his eyes and when he doesn’t pull away, she leans in and presses her lips against his.

It’s a soft sweet kiss, and she surprises herself because she’s so used to rough kisses that usually end up with clothes flying off. But this is different. When she kisses Jordan, he makes a gentle noise from low in his throat—from surprise, from just being kissed, she’s not entirely sure but she’ll definitely investigate later—that resonates through her body warmly as she deepens the kiss. He lets her take the lead, not even trying to assert dominance as Lydia feels his warm hands slide down her back, resting on her waistline and pulling her a little closer to him, but other than that they don’t even dare go any lower to her ass.

He’s completely at her mercy and she’s starting to think that he likes it that way.

When she finally pulls away, she sees his eyes flutter as he tries to lean closer to her again, following her lips for more and it makes her giggle before she gives him a quick peck on the corner of his mouth. “Mhm, I think that’s enough for now, deputy.”

He finally opens his eyes when he hears her, completely flustered, but the way he looks at her makes Lydia feel so warm inside. He looks at her like she’s his whole damn universe and just the thought that she might be makes her want to kiss him again.

“What...What was that?” He asks, still dazed from the kiss.

“Definitely not a kiss of death, that’s for sure,” she replies flirtatiously. “Maybe, a ‘I like you’ kiss? Most likely that type of kiss.” She flashes him a smile and watches as he starts blushing all over again, and it’s so god damn adorable.

“Then,” he starts again, a little nervously, “maybe I need to return the favor.” He’s a lot less brave than her when it comes to treading this type of ground, but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t melt in his arms when his lips brush against her forehead and then her cheek, before finally brushing against the corner of her mouth. It makes her melt but it also leaves her skin in goosebumps and she doesn’t even realize when her eyes closed until she’s opening them again and looking up at him. Her voice comes out in a breathless whisper, “what was that?”

“Not a ‘I like you’ kiss. But definitely, a ‘I like you _a lot_ ’ kiss.” He smiles sheepishly at her, and Lydia smiles brightly back, unable to resist kissing him again. So she does, because hell, _she can_ , and Jordan makes that noise again that just makes her kiss him even more.

And in the back of her mind she’s thinking about how she didn’t mean to fall in love tonight, but she did _fall_. Hard, and fast, and straight into the warm and safe grasp of Jordan Parrish’s arms.

Jordan, who she knows will catch her and hold her and make sure she never ever hits the ground.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://lydiasdeputy.tumblr.com)


End file.
